


My Sacrifice

by chibi_onna



Series: For Hartwin Week [1]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: AU where Kingsman are gods, Eggsy is sort of the sacrificial lamb, M/M, for hartwin week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 00:33:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4586214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi_onna/pseuds/chibi_onna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living in fear of the wrath of the gods they call the Kingsman, the people send their sacrifices to the temple religiously. To be chosen as a Bearer was a high honour, except if you're Galahad's, because then, the Bearer would also be the Sacrifice. The Council of Elders always chooses the Bearers, but this time, Galahad has chosen for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spatzi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spatzi/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** _*sharpens prosthetic blades while sitting pretty in a private plane*_ Do I look like I own Kingsman?
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> **~*~**
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>  **A/N:** This is my Sunday offering for Hartwin Week, inspired by an idea sparked by my darling [Spatzi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Spatzi). I tweaked it a bit—okay, I tweaked it a lot—but I hope you like it anyway. XD This PWP is a prime example of self-indulgent piece of shit writing. Oh god. This is my first hartwin smut. Do tell me what you think.
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> **Hartwin Week Day 1 prompt: First Time**

**~*~**

**My Sacrifice**

**~*~**

 

Humans have always feared that which they did not understand. For the longest time, they’ve hidden themselves away at the first signs of thunder and lightning, clutched at each other through raging storms, huddled like sheep in the face of the bitter cold of winter with no understanding of the things happening around them. But then time witnessed the rise of civilisation and with it came Man’s insatiable urge to know everything about anything. They searched for their answers far and wide, sticking their noses where they didn’t belong even if some things were better left untouched. The saying about cats and curiosity had to come from somewhere, yet Man persists to push against all limits. They stopped at nothing—at least not until they burnt themselves for poking sleeping dragons just to see what would happen afterwards.

 

There was only ever one thing left that would strike enough fear in their hearts, and it was also the one thing they’d learnt to never risk: the wrath of their gods they called Kingsman. Powerful beings, they were; able to call upon the elements as they wished, wreaking havoc and devastation wherever and whenever they chose to smite those who incite their fury, leaving nothing but the putrid stench of death and decay in the wake of their righteous anger. They were immortal, as old as Time itself, the knowledge of them only kept alive by legends told in temples, by stories around the warmth of fire, by mothers attempting to discipline their children. They were never seen unless they willed it, but the people stayed vigilant, never once doubting their existence. They periodically send sacrifices to the temple, and to be chosen as a Bearer was viewed to be the highest honour. Bearers were to be the bridges between Kingsman and Man, the liaisons tasked to appease the Kingsman in the hopes that the human race would never have to incur punishment for their earthly deeds, whether it was deserved or not.

 

They offered the glitter of luxury to Arthur for he would not accept anything less, the finest of wines to Percival, the most dangerous of weapons to Lancelot, the most spectacular fireworks for Bors, the tastiest food for Tristan, the sheerest of fabrics for Kay, and so on. The Kingsman were fairly easy to placate, but there was one among them who viewed sacrifices as the bribes that they were and would never change his mind about ending those he chose to smite. Perhaps this was why Galahad’s was the most dreaded of tributes to give; for it was solely him who demanded the sacrifice of a human life.

 

* * *

   

Eggsy trudged up the pathway to the temple along with his fellow Bearers, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders despite being the only one who carried nothing. He blinked away the tears of frustration, anger, and fear even before they had the chance to form, steeling himself for what was to come. Bearers for Galahad were their own burden, being the sacrifices meant to be offered to the most fearsome of Kingsman. They never knew what ever became of the human sacrifices, and this, more than anything, terrified him. He could run away, like some others had before him, but he couldn’t risk the lives of his mother and sister. He didn’t have much choice in the matter, especially since he was the only one in written history to be singled out and named in a legitimate prophetic dream. He was hand-picked by Galahad himself, unlike the others who were selected by the corrupt council men and women to rid their society of what they perceived to be vermin, good for nothing else but to be offered as sacrificial lambs. But since he was doomed anyway, maybe he could appeal to Galahad to take his step-father’s life too so the abusive bastard would be gone for good, never to hurt his family ever again. His fists clenched with resolve.

 

They arrived at their destination without much pomp, the High Priest Merlin ready and waiting at the top of the steps. He welcomed them without much fuss, immediately directing them to cleanse their minds and bodies in preparation for the ceremony to offer their gifts to the Kingsman. They did as they were bade, solemnly washing and changing into the pristine white drapes of cloth not unlike those worn by the Ancient Greeks.

 

Each Kingsman had a whole room devoted to them, where offerings would be arranged and left by the Bearers. Ironically enough, interactions rarely occurred between the Kingsman and their supposed liaisons, except of course for Galahad and his. The rooms would be sealed upon the ritual’s completion and nothing of what they put in the previous day would be found in the next.

 

Eggsy lay spread-eagled on the raised and cushioned altar, ready to offer himself up with the thin sliver of hope that the Kingsman who named him as sacrifice would be gracious enough to heed his request. He never looked back as the doors were closed and sealed, leaving the room in total darkness. He lay in stillness and silence, his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he anticipated the Kingsman’s arrival.

 

Galahad’s presence couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. A pleasantly warm draft entered the room from nowhere, candles flickering to life where it touched, giving the room a soft, dim glow. Eggsy’s nostrils flared at the hint of spice and musk that permeated the air, his pupils dilating ever so slightly.

 

_**Eggsy.** _

  

Despite the softness of the tone, the sound of his name spoken by divine lips echoed through the spacious room, reverberating through Eggsy’s person, making the sparse hair on his arms raise on end. Eggsy released a breath he didn’t realise he was holding and kept his eyes on the ceiling even as he saw from the corner of his eye a sort of mist vaguely swirling and twisting into the shape of a man as it slowly walked towards him. It was now or never.

 

“Galahad,” Eggsy’s voice never betrayed his inner turmoil, “I offer you my life to do with as you please, but I implore you to heed my request before you take it.”

 

The god barked out an amused laugh as he got close enough to enter Eggsy’s field of vision.

 

**_Silly boy. Your life is not yours to offer. It has always been mine before you were even born._ **

 

Eggsy shuddered as the now corporeal Kingsman caressed his face with surprising softness, his head subconsciously leaning into the touch. He couldn’t explain it, but it felt like everything was as it should be with the sheer _rightness_ of it. Belatedly realising he had closed his eyes, he snapped them open and drank in the sight of the ethereally gorgeous being as Galahad leaned close enough for their breaths to mingle.

 

Transfixed as though hypnotised by chocolate brown orbs, Eggsy bewilderedly whispered, “Yours?”

 

The amused eyes flashed and rapidly filled with lust and desire and ownership.

 

**_Mine. Always mine._ **

 

Eggsy was not prepared for the onslaught on his senses as Galahad closed the distance between them, devouring his lips and stealing the very breath from his lungs; lips, teeth, and tongue staking the god’s claim and sending sparks of pleasure to every inch of his body. Long, slender fingers trailed from his cheek, down to his neck and chest, grazing over an exposed, pebbling nipple and drifting down, down, down cupping him between his legs where the heat pooled and stroked almost lazily, driving him half-insane with want.

 

Eggsy’s fingers clutched at silken sheets for purchase, and he opened his mouth further to let the Kingsman pillage his mouth in the most delicious of ways, tongues repeatedly sliding against one another and going back and forth, sucking on and curling around each other, wet and pliant and oh so hot. He lifted his head off the bed-like altar, chasing after Galahad as the Kingsman straightened up to survey his prize, and oh, such a prize Eggsy was, chest heaving in breathless pants, face flushed with pleasure, lips glistening invitingly, nether regions raising the cloth that covered it.

 

**_My beautiful darling boy. Made for me. Only for me._ **

 

Eggsy whimpered, the words making his spine tingle. He did not quite understand what the Kingsman was on about, he only knew that he wanted— _needed_ —more of the sensations that made his blood sing in his veins. Letting go of the crimson sheets, he reached for Galahad, pulling him down over him as he folded his knees up. The Kingsman indulgently let him, the manic glint of possession never leaving his eyes as Eggsy nuzzled his palm and licked at the digits, wrapping his tongue around two before enveloping them with the wet heat of his mouth.

 

Galahad hummed his approval and snapped the fingers in his unoccupied hand, making the white fabric disappear from Eggsy’s person. Galahad traced paths on supple young flesh with his lips, nudging the aching hardness of his Chosen with his nose and breathing in Eggsy’s tantalising scent. Galahad pulled his fingers free from Eggsy’s mouth and trailed them lazily down his torso until they came upon the puckered pink hole, quivering in excitement for his touch.

 

Eggsy moaned as the spit-slick fingers worked him open, the odd sensation quickly evolving into pleasurable zings as the god found the spot that made him see stars and cruelly stroked it to the point that had Eggsy almost at the edge, but never quite enough to get there. Galahad’s name was a prayer that fell from the boy’s lips, and he benevolently answered it as best he could.

 

The Kingsman read his every thought and obliged him, pushing his own hardness into his boy, sliding in and out of the slick velvet heat. He fucked him slowly and surely until they both couldn’t take it anymore and Galahad, kneeling over Eggsy, lifted him upright with his strong arms, the new angle making Eggsy’s mouth fall open with a strangled scream; and Galahad swallowed it all through his lips as he stroked Eggsy in time with his thrusts, faster and faster and faster until the boy keened his release, clutching at his god’s back as Galahad grunted and filled him to the brim with the sweet ambrosia of his love and biting down his boy’s neck in a seal of complete ownership.

 

Coming down from his high, Eggsy let his head fall on the Kingsman’s shoulder, nose buried in the god’s neck.

 

“Do you do this with all your sacrifices?”

 

Amused, Galahad smirked and pressed a kiss into Eggsy’s hair.

 

**_No. Just this one._ **

**Author's Note:**

>  **A/N:** Whoops


End file.
